To Take a Thief
by detective ban
Summary: Orphaned at five. Raised to be a thief. Can she forget these shadows of her past and take up an honest life as a pokemon trainer?
1. To Take a Thief

**To Take a Thief**

Well to start things off, I guess you can call me an average girl. I'm about 5'5", I'm thirteen years old, and I'm fast. Why did I say that last part? Well, because being fast just happens to be the only thing that keeps me alive. Okay, I guess you can't call me an average girl now, but if you ever took the time to get to know me, you might see I'm not that bad-

"Stop, Thief!"

Unless you count that out. See, I'm a thief. I know, I know, I just said the obvious. But I'm not really bad. I was thrown out onto the streets when I was five, and a gang of street urchins took me in. They taught me how to pickpockets, blend in with the crowd, and how to choose my targets. But I only steal what will get me through the night. I don't steal gems, jewelry, or any of those kinds of valuables. I stick to food, money, and other things that will help me survive in the streets.

I guess you can say I've learned chivalry. As much as thief can, though. I only take from the people who can make do without the stuff I steal. I've never stolen pokemon before either. Hell, I don't even _have_ one! I've always known that pokemon aren't mindless things that you can order around. You can see it in their eyes. And God knows I've seen Officer Jenny's Growlithe enough to know!

I've never killed anyone either. I don't see the need to be put on the wanted list for murdering. No thank you, being a wanted thief is _enough_ for me. The urchins who raised me though, well, they're bad. I was kicked out of their group three years ago in the dead of winter because I refused to kill anyone to get what I needed. They had always looked down on me because I had the skills to steal precious things that could sell for high prices, but never used them.

And that leads me to where I am now. I made the mistake of stealing a track team member's wallet, then tripping over one of the discarded items from the vendor next to me. Luckily for me, since today is the swap meet, it's a big crowd. Hundreds of people are in the city's square, looking at the wares. The discarded item happened to be a potion bottle, since the vendor who threw it there was a traveling representative of the new line of pokemart items.

Unluckily for me, the track member had a Spearow, I had bright copper colored hair, and the sun just so happened to be smiling that day. Now, if you're dense and haven't added that up, let me give you a clue. The reddish brown bird is a known predator in the forest, albeit small, and had very sharp eyes. My coppery colored hair was bright and shining from my first 'bath' in weeks, a.k.a. gang members dump thief in rich dude's fountain then run off. The sun was extra bright today, many people were either sitting in their homes with the air conditioner cranked up, or going around the swap meet with extra light clothing, most with hats, sunglasses, and ice cream.

I had learned to blend into the crowd a long time ago, but today just happened to make me forgetful, especially because I was extra hungry. I hadn't been feeling very well the past few days, I knew I shouldn't have stolen that trucker's egg salad sandwich, and slept past breakfast.

The red-brown bird dived down, cawing as it banged its orange beak against my scalp. I shoved my way through the crowd faster, hoping the young man wouldn't catch up. I rammed into a burly man, activating his reflexes. The annoying bird was knocked off my head by a hand almost as big as it. It cawed in pain and flapped back up to the sky weakly.

I took the moment where he was ignoring me, listening to his trainer's commands, to snatch a baseball cap from a stall and jam it onto my head, covering my copper locks and ignoring the yell of protest from the vendor. I ducked back into the throng of people, hoping the Spearow wouldn't notice. I guess today wasn't my day, karma was after me.

The bird squawked the news back to it's trainer, and as I turned quickly into one of the alleys leading out of the square, the trainer sent out a new pokemon. He was closer than I thought, because I could hear his voice commanding the new creature.

"Doduo, after that thief!"

The two-headed bird squawked back, and then used its powerful legs to launch off the ground. The brown bird may be flightless, but it can jump very high. It landed right in front of me, clicking its beaks and looking me straight in the eye with anger. The look in both pairs of eyes was daring me to try and run, but I didn't. I was frozen on the spot, looking at those sharp talons, equally sharp beaks, and powerful legs.

The owner of this creature walked into the alley behind me, blocking my escape. The brunette young man was about a foot taller than me, and all legs. No wonder he was so fast. But then again, what else do you expect from a track team member?

"Give it back, thief." He said, venom leaking out of his words.

"Give what back?" I said innocently, knowing it was no use. The brunette grabbed me by the collar of my worn long sleeve t-shirt, and brought me up to look him straight in the eyes. My feet dangled a foot off the ground, but I wasn't worried about that. No, his black eyes were what scared me. I took one glance those hate-filled irises and gulped, averting my eyes to stare into the Spearow's on his shoulder.

"My pokemon you thief. You stole it! It was in my wallet!" He yelled at me, hurting my ears. But the last thing on my mind was the pain. I hadn't known there was a pokemon in there! If I had known, I wouldn't have taken it.

"You had a pokemon in there?" I asked incredulously, finally staring into _his_ eyes. "If I had known that, I wouldn't have taken it!" I continued, blurting out the truth.

"What!" The brunette stared at me as incredulously as I did him. He dropped me down onto the ground, where I fell flat on my ass, still staring at him. He put his hand out to me, upturned. I put the wallet there quickly and scrambled upright by myself.

"Yeah! Why would I want to steal a pokemon? Just take it and let me leave!" I said, on the verge of panicking. Stealing a pokemon is considered kidnapping by the law, and that's much worse than thievery.

"How do I know you're telling the truth?" He said, checking to see what was in the wallet. He shook something out of it onto the palm of his other hand. A half red, half white thing the size of a marble fell out. He pressed a button that was on the part where the two colors joined. The ball maximized itself to the size of a baseball in less than two seconds.

"If I said I was telling the truth, there would be no way to prove it, would there? And if I somehow did find a way to prove it, you could just choose not to believe me!" I answered as honestly as I could. I was trying to be nice, so he wouldn't try to sick the cops on me.

He seemed to consider that for a bit, and then looked at his wallet again. He minimized the pokeball with that same button at the joint and put the pokeball on his belt, and then took out two others that looked exactly the same as the first. In a flash of red light, both of the menacing bird pokemon were recalled.

"How'd you become a thief, kid?" He asked.

I looked at him oddly for changing the subject before answering honestly again. "None of your business." I answered, for the first time being rude.

"Why do you stay a thief?" He asked, still trying to pry. I wasn't going to give in. I've always considered that question, but I can't figure out the answer.

"None of your business," I said yet again. I couldn't tell what he was trying to do, but I decided that I wouldn't let him know anything. "And if you don't mind, I'm going to go now." I was still hungry, after all. I thought I saw a fruit vendor somewhere. Sleight of hand is all I need.

"Where?" He was still trying to pry. When would he stop? Couldn't he see that he needed to know nothing about me?

"What do you think my answer is going to be?" I was trying to be as rude as I could so he would leave me alone.

"Why did you steal from me?" He asked, ignoring my last comment.

"Because I was hungry, damnit!" I snapped. I'm not that good at holding my temper, as you can see.

He must have seen that I was in no mood to talk anymore, because he was moving out of my way. I started walking out of the alley, steaming. To get my temper back in control I decided to plan what I would do after I sated my hunger. Unfortunately, the young man grabbed my sleeve to stop me for another question.

"What's your name, thief?" He asked, making my temper go to the point where I might have hit him except for the fact that I didn't want him to call the cops. I decided to humor him on that one.

"Ayshen." Then I shook his grip off my sleeve, starting to run back through the crowd, making my way to find a food vendor.

* * *

After getting my lunch, which consisted of two oranges and an apple that I could somehow manage to stuff into the pockets of my cargo pants, I went back to my 'house' to eat it. The square was huge, and the warehouse district where I lived was on the outer ring of the city. But by going through alleys, houses, and over some buildings, I was able to make it there in less than an hour.

The warehouse district was mostly abandoned a long time ago when the item storage system was made, people preferring having computers in the back of their stores that can only be opened with passwords to the huge warehouses where the items always got dusty and thieves could sneak in with a lock pick and take whatever they wanted.

The alley between two long winding rows of warehouses was thick with trash and sewage. It smelled like urine and rotten eggs blended with sour milk, which very well could be what was there. I picked my way gingerly down the alley, avoiding any unmentionables. I finally came across my warehouse, a small thing that used to hold furniture for an old couple as I recall.

I slid in through the half ajar door, climbing over trash and finally finding the pipe along the wall that I could use to climb to the loft I used as my home. Most of the thieves made their homes in the bigger warehouses closer to the city or at hideouts in inns and clubs. Nobody knew of my hideout, I kept it as secret as possible and the only way to my loft was the pipe that could barely bear my weight.

I shinnied up the pipe and jumped onto the old creaky planks of my loft. No matter what, I would always be scared of that space in between the pipe and planks that was three feet wide. But the loft is the safest place I know of in Rustboro, being so high up that the only things that can get up there are things that are thrown or could fly. But I was still safe because the loft stretches out most of the way over the inside of the warehouse. So for someone to throw something up here, they have to be backed up against the wall, so therefore, if I was in the middle of the loft, it wouldn't even be near me if it even got up here.

I didn't have much in the loft. The sleeping pad I had layed out and the blanket I had over it was one of the few things I had there besides an old style lantern, a solar flashlight, some lock picks and knives, rope, and other things I find valuable. But most of those were in a backpack, except for the lantern and sleeping pad. I always kept matches and extra candles for the lantern in my bag too, I had always gotten things in quantity so I wouldn't have to go back and try to steal later when they were guarded better.

I sat down on my pad and took out one of the oranges to start peeling it. While doing so, something fell out of my sleeve. I had small pockets sewn onto the insides of my both my sleeves, and some in the torso part of my long sleeve t-shirt. I also had a few on the inside of my pants, but rarely used those.

I looked at the thing that had rolled out and gasped, dropping my orange onto the pad and ignoring it as it rolled away and stopped after hitting my pack. I was staring at the red and white marble sized object that had fallen out of my sleeve. It was a pokeball.

* * *

I take pride in this story, I think it may be better than my others. Review please! I left it at a cliffhanger for a reason. 


	2. Honesty of a Thief

**Honesty of a Thief**

I sat there for a long while, staring at the small orb. I couldn't comprehend how it had gotten in my sleeve, it just seemed impossible. I never stole it, and nobody put it in-_ that's it! The guy, he grabbed my sleeve! But I thought he put the pokeball on his belt…_ _Huh. Well, I might as well see if there is anything inside, I bet there isn't. _

I reached out hesitantly and tapped the ball with my index finger, it immediately maximized. Startled, I snatched my hand away, and then realized a moment too late that it was rolling. It rolled the way my orange did, and hit my pack. It burst in half with a bright white light, and something took shape.

I was scared. I didn't know what was to come. Not knowing something has always been my fear, if you don't know something when you're a thief, it can get you killed. I'm not exaggerating, it's quite true. But the thing that came out of the pokeball a moment after those thoughts ran through my head light a flash of lightning was anything but something to be scared of. In fact, it was quite…. Cute?

Yes, yes indeed! The overly large spider that came out was cute! No it was not a _real_ spider, but a pokemon. The four long, blue, one foot tall spider legs led up to a small circle of a body situated on top. And on top of what I could only assume was his head was a little hat like thing, it was yellow and if you looked at it from an angle you could mistake it for a straw hat and not actually part of it's body. Under its small beady black eyes were pinkish ovals, which I would think were the spider's 'cheeks'.

I struggled to remember what it was, and finally got up and went over to my pack, knowing that I had a pokemon handbook in there. I remember stealing it quite a few years ago, and reading it to memorize the pokemon on long nights and rainy days. The spider watched me and scuttled around as I flipped through the book that had information on almost all the pokemon but less than the world renowned pokedex I found the little guy.

It just so happened to be a Surskit. It was usually rare, but when it was in season it was extremely common. I looked down at the little thing, not knowing what I was supposed to do with it. I decided to try to get to know it first, so it would cooperate in helping me find its trainer.

"So… You're a Surskit?" I asked. Stupid question, I know, but when I looked in its eyes, it surprised me. How _do_ you talk to a spider that may have more intelligence than you?

"Sur!" He replied, in such a jovial tone that it couldn't be a negative. I decided that since I couldn't understand it, I'd try to ask yes or no questions and listen to the tone of it's squeaky little voice to see the answer.

"Okay… So, are you a girl?" Hopefully with some information, no matter how small, I might be able to get closer to finding the trainer. Of course, the trainers in Rustboro equaled about one third of the population, and about half of those would have Surskits because it was a bit past breeding season, and the Surskits would be out of their mother's grasps, not knowing anything about the spheres that are such a danger to them. Rustboro had very nearly ten thousand people in it, so it would be hard. But knowing that the trainer was on a track team in one of the many schools here helped a lot.

The Surskit didn't answer this time, but the violent shaking of it's body made me think it a negative. So it was a boy then. Helpful, but now I don't have to call him 'it'. The Surskit started running around, scrambling across the loft at a high speed that was hard to follow. Thinking something was wrong, I called out to it.

"Surskit! What the hell is going on?" Okay, so I never was a Picasso with words; who cares?

He slowed down and went up to me. He lifted one of his four long legs and pointed at the forgotten orange. I immediately knew what was wrong. The bugger was hungry. And no, the pun was not intended; sorry. I picked up the orange and continued what I was going to do. After I peeled it I divided it into thirds; two thirds for me, one third for the little blue spider. I figured that would be enough because he was so small, but I did have the other orange and apple just in case.

I started eating my share, focusing on devouring the citrus fruit. I looked over at the Surskit when I was halfway done and got a surprise. His share was no where in sight, and he was sprawled on the planks of the loft, little bubbles coming out of a nose I didn't even know was there. He must have been sleeping, and he was extremely cute; cuter than before. I wondered how he ate the fruit so fast, I didn't even know he had a mouth! Oh well, maybe I would find out some other time.

Some other time? I followed where that thought would lead; to keeping him. I couldn't keep him! It wasn't right! _But the trainer _did_ give him to me,_ that logical part of my conscience answered,_ it would be fair to keep him. Besides, if I raise him I get extra protection from the other thieves and gangs!_ It was indeed the logical answer. But I could also go out and start train- no! I couldn't train pokemon! People would recognize me! Or would they…

"Surskit," I called quietly, I decided to see what he thought about it.

The spider jumped up like a startled rabbit. Realizing who called, he calmed down and squeaked tentatively. Good, I had a lot to tell him.

"Hey little guy, I need your help on something," I started, watching as he cocked his 'head' at me. "I've been a thief all my life. I've made quite a few enemies that would want to hurt or even kill me. But then someone gave me you. I was thinking if it would be a good idea to try and start an honest life. Pokemon training I mean. Do you think that's a good idea?" All that time he didn't make a sound, just listened like there was nothing else in the world. That felt really good, to have someone who would listen to you no matter what, trainer or thief, good or bad. Was that why pokemon came to us? Because they thought we needed partners? It would make so much sense.

He stayed still and quiet for a few minutes, and I dreaded a negative answer. Yes, I too, thief of Rustboro, have always fancied becoming a trainer. I doubt any child _doesn't_ want to be one. Everybody wants to be great in some way, the only thing that differs is the person and the goal; except for most trainers, who almost all want to be a pokemon master.

Surskit moved just then. I couldn't predict what the answer would be, but I don't doubt that he understood the implications in me becoming a trainer. He would have to fight for me, being a starter pokemon. Most people got starters from the professors in Pallet, Kanto; New Bark, Johto; and Littleroot, Hoenn. But there are still a lot of people whose starters are gifts from family or friends, and there is a small amount of people who tend to go out on their own to look for a starter.

"Surskit," he yelled, closing his eyes in what I suspected was glee. I would have cheered if I didn't think that the building wouldn't be able to take it. The warehouse was old and one sound could bring it down.

"Well then! I think we need to get ourselves some trainers gear!" I said instead. I didn't have any money, but a few more things done wrong before I turn honest is okay right? Surskit probably knew that because he went over to my pack and got on top of it. I decided that I would take my pack with me, and come back later to sleep and get a fresh start in the morning.

Since Rustboro is the home of the first gym and Surskit was most likely of a low level, I decided that I should try to catch a pokemon and train to get stronger. I didn't know a thing about training, but I could probably snatch a good guide book on the way. I would sign up to be a trainer at the pokecenter tomorrow and start my honest life.

Before I picked up my pack, I suddenly remembered something. I forgot to tell the little guy my name! I looked down at him, he didn't seem to notice what was wrong. I remembered something I had learned long ago from another thief, sometimes pokemon got traits from their trainer when being with them and vice versa. If I had forgetfulness, a short temper, and took no pity on fools as my most shown traits; how would that affect him?

I wondered for a moment what he would be like. The image of a little blue spider running around with an angry look in his eyes scolding other bug pokemon for looking curiously at him then forgetting what they did to him almost made me laugh out loud. I wonder if absurd thoughts ran in my family? Possibly. And that train of thought led me in another direction.

I never had been sad about having no parents to rely on, but most orphans I have met are. No, the only thing I have ever really felt about them was curiosity, and mild at that. My life as a thief depended on trusting no one, not even my own parents. If I ever happen to find out who exactly they were, it would be just one more puzzle piece connected in my life, a puzzle meant only to figure out and then put it away to collect dust.

After a moment I came back to myself with the sudden realization that I was woolgathering and putting off what had to come. That's another bad trait that the little guy could get. If he was ever in a fight or in the wilds being attacked by a predator and he started thinking like I just did, one train of thought leading to another, going through pros and cons or just inspecting his life, he could be hurt or killed because of that. I decided I wouldn't let him get that trait, it would be extremely bad; if he ever showed signs of it, I would make sure to disabuse that kind of thing out of him for his own safety.

I nodded to myself silently and then cleared my throat to ready myself for a burst of cheerfulness. "Hey, little guy! I just realized I forgot something. My name is Ayshen, and I hope to hell that you won't forget it," I said jokingly.

He squeaked in pleasure, at least I hoped it was pleasure. He made some sort of sound, something like listening to a flute switching from a deep note to a really high note over and over again. A few seconds later, I realized he was laughing. He was incredibly cute for a bug, I think I was going to like his company.

After he stopped laughing I picked up my pack and slung it over my shoulder. He took advantage of the height and climbed onto my new baseball cap that I finally realized was still there, noticing that it's color was a blue almost the same shade as my new friend. Kind of ironic now that I think of it, but I decided I liked the new touch. It did match the blue of my shirt, which in turn had black stripes matching the black material of my cargo pants, which contrasted against the white of my extremely worn and many times washed shoes.

All of my clothes were a little big on me except the shirt, which I had finally grown into. When I finally got to the point of needing a bra, I decided that wearing clothes at least one size bigger than what my normal size was would make sure that I didn't need to steal clothes for a while, which was amazingly much harder than stealing regular essentials like food or batteries. I was always rail thin, seeing as I could rarely steal anything that is at least a little fatty.

This kind of thing always got me, people are so into 'fashion' now that they usually guard clothes and jewelry better than other things. And fattening foods like meat and junk food were better protected against thieves than fruits and other healthy things. I never bothered with stealing those kinds of things, so I guess I turned vegetarian a while ago. Actually, with how thin I was, some supermodels would be jealous.

But that didn't mean I was unhealthy, far from it. Unlike other gangs and thieves I tried my best to stay away from drugs and the like. I also picked up books on health and diseases so that I knew what to stay away from sometimes. I had about four of those in my bag right now, which reminded me that once I got all the stuff I needed and got a pokemon training and health guide, it would get extremely heavy. Best keep the list short then, less stuff to steal, more to earn later.

I started a list in my head when I climbed down from the pipe and walked out of the warehouse. I was careful, of course, to try to not be seen or seem suspicious as I walked through the city. Pokemon food would be a starter, pokeballs and potions also. A trainers belt… No, too cliché. I look for some other way to hold my pokeballs, to make myself a little different from the average trainer. I liked the idea of being able to clip pokeballs to my backpack straps, so I decided to look into it.

See, I wasn't exactly amazed anymore by the fact of being a trainer. Any nuthead with two arms, two legs, and a brain (no matter how small) could do it. That doesn't guarantee that they'll be good at it, but hey! Who the hell cares! I didn't think that I would be a good trainer, far from it actually. But being able to get away from being a thief, going through the wilds to find creatures as intelligent as me that would like to be a friend and partner, that really appealed to me.

So, on with my list. I already had a bunch of things I could use for this, my bag, the sleeping bad and blanket instead of a regular sleeping bag which I could tie to my bag, my flashlight, matches, rope, knives, and even the lock picks would still be useful! I thought about it for a moment and decided that I would add some kind of small pot to my list and a water flask. The flask would be better than a water bottle because if you dropped the water bottle hard enough it could break by itself, which most flasks couldn't if they were made right.

I was actually slightly surprised that I hadn't though of stealing a flask before, but then again, there was still water running in the warehouse. The reason for that I could never imagine, but yes the water was running in a bathroom that was still in function there. There was a small office in the warehouse, and behind a door leading from that office there was an equally small bathroom. Well, the bathroom wasn't exactly 'in service' when I moved in, but a book on plumbing and a mind good at book learning and tools did the job.

I am indeed good at book learning, and most people who live on the streets aren't very smart and can't read. But as you know, I am much different than the average thief. I was always interested in the odd symbols on stacks of paper bound in leather or other materials, and I can't tell you exactly when they started to make words for me, all I know is that when they did, I understood them and learned almost all I know from them.

The only thing the other thieves taught me were how to steal and things that revolved around that, as if that's all there was to life. But I learned the truth. Books showed me the lives of people, the showed me more what the real world was like than they ever did. They were always disturbed with the fact that I was able to read between the lines, to see real reason and be rational in unexpected events.

I was always and still am disturbed with one thing. Whenever something goes completely wrong, and not something like today's incident, but much worse, some calm part of me took over, analyzed the situation, and always found some way out. Whenever I tried to find that part of me I was always avoided, I tried to look into myself and sort out everything about me that made me _me_, and I never found it. It was as if It wasn't even a part of me, but something that hung in the back of my mind analyzing every thought and sometimes steered me in the right direction when needed, or completely took over.

After a while I learned to ignore it, deciding that if it truly meant for me to learn anything about it, it would have done so. Most people would become scared of me if I told them that, possibly thinking I was insane. But I'm not. I know I'm not. I think that it truly is a part of me, that it just may be a part of everyone, that guides us and helps us live and let live. I may be a thief, but I'm not a bad person. A murderer may be a killer, but he doesn't have to be a bad person.

That's my philosophy; that everyone doesn't have to follow the stereotypical route, that people who seem bad may not be bad. I guess that you could say that I'm the 'don't judge a book by its cover' type. Now that's something you wouldn't expect from a thief, eh? I'm not a bad person. I'm just someone forced into a life that I don't like, but have to live with. Could you understand that?

* * *

Well, I updated. I think I've actually gotten better at writing than before... Anyway, I know there are people who read this and don't review, and that honestly annoys me. Of course, I read some stories and don't review myself, so I guess I could be called a bit of a hypocrite. But the only reason why I don't review all the time is because I have no comment on the story or I can't say anything that hasn't already been said. I looked for a story on fanfiction that may have slightly the same idea as this story, but I honestly couldn't find anything. I would really like it if you would please review this and tell me honestly what might be wrong with the story, as in flaws, pros and cons, that kind of thing. If I don't get at least quite a few reviews that tell me what is good and bad about this story, I am likely to lose heart for writing it. It's happened quite a few times with other stories, and I am trying hard to think of something to write for them, but without opinions I can't really do much. Hopefully some people will be smart enough to take my warning. 


	3. Thieves Honor

**Thieves' Honor**

Either I have lost my skill, or karma has caught up with me. The only junior salesman from the pokemart that is out in the swap meet happens to be extremely smart. He apparently has quite a few friends, considering the two slightly burly dark eyed men standing beside the scrawny guy.

I'm guessing they were paid or something to guard his booth for thieves; so smart of him. Why don't I ever get the dumb ones? Usually the only place you can really steal from in Rustboro is the swap meet; the stores always having high tech detectors and whatnot. Now when people at the swap meet get smart, then you're in trouble.

I decided on another way to get my items. All I had to do was 'borrow' a person's wallet. I hope there won't be any other incidents like what happened earlier, it wouldn't be pleasant. Looking around, I spotted someone with a wallet sticking out of their back pocket.

I walked casually over, pretending to brush past him while I snatched the wallet with one hand. I noted what the target looked like, then walked past a stall while surreptitiously keeping an eye on him. Without turning away, I opened the wallet and took the cash out, and then closed the wallet.

I didn't like to take anything other than just cash, people who use credit cards can be easily tracked nowadays; I didn't want to go to jail after all that's happened. Following the target, I dashed past him, acting as if I had to go somewhere quickly. I rammed half into his shoulder, making him recoil while I slipped the wallet back in his pocket and kept running.

I stopped sprinting after a while, not because I was tired, but because I was about a hundred yards away from the salesman from the pokemart. Looking at the cash in my hands, I was satisfied to see that I would have more than enough to get the few things I needed.

Surskit, by mutual agreement that if he stayed out of his pokeball he could (ironically) get stolen without my knowing, stayed in his pokeball. I was getting the hang of understanding the little guy, but he did make it easier by nods and tones of voice, no matter how squeaky.

Walking casually again, I went to the stall and looked at the wares. The common things that trainers needed were there; different kinds of pokemon food, pokeballs, all kinds of healers, belts, berries, pokeblocks, toys, and a few other things. I just wanted food, a few potions, and a few pokeballs so I didn't have much to carry.

Pointing to my choices of four regular pokeballs, four potions, and a bag of vegetarian food (after consulting the salesman about Surskits) he rang up the total and I got out the borrowed cash. I had stolen about three thousand yen (the currency of trainers) which was a low amount, but the stuff only added up to about one thousand five hundred yen, easily paid off.

After leaving the stall with my goods, I went over to a bench to put the stuff in my pack. The potions and pokeballs were put in the smallest pocket, while the food was stuffed into the side of the biggest pocket. To say the least, it wasn't much so it wasn't very hard to find room.

Wandering out of the swap meet, I started down to the pokemart. I wasn't intending on ever getting a pokegear, pokenav, or pokedex. I thought it was kind of useless since one, nobody would ever need to call me because I intend to only have to tell my pokemon about me; two, I'd rather buy a regular map than be tracked down by having an electronic one; and three, I've got a book on pokemon, so I don't need an electronic device that could be used to track me down. Basically, it all leads to the fact that the police and league keeps an eye on trainers by their helpful inventions.

It would be all right for any other person to have those kinds of things, but I rather not take risks. Of course, the easiest way to blend in is to have those kind of things, but I could always make out to be a poor person. That should be easy enough with my shabby clothing and common pokemon. Yes, I think I'll try for only common pokemon… Maybe if I get to be a great trainer, people will see that rare pokemon aren't always the best way to go.

_Bah. Dreaming of 'changing the world' never does anyone good. A petty thief could never do that. I bet that no trainer who has ever left on their 'journey' has ever done that, _I thought, taking a left at the corner of the street I was walking on. _And why do they call it 'journey' anyway? I mean, honestly, it sounds so cliché. It's not much of a 'journey' if it's walking along paths and streets that millions of other people and pokemon have walked over already. I think I'll call my 'journey' a 'jaunt across the continent to make friends with retarded cliché people and pokemon, with and altruistic cause of disabling myself saving people who couldn't keep their mouth's shut'. And if anyone asks, I'll just point out what that kid Ask Ketchup or whatever did a hundred years ago, dying from gunshot by a rocket because he decided to save a kids ass from being gunned down. _

In truth, that is indeed what happened. One hundred years ago the newly crowned 'Pokemon Master' Ash Ketchum went on a journey to demolish the Rockets. Later on his quest he found a minor hideout of a rather small squad of Rockets. One of the Rockets just happened to be in the middle of trying to gun down a child because the cheeky brat told him he was ugly and deserved to go to hell because his mom told him that evil people went to hell. Of course, the child being six and this Rocket having an especially short temper and a reputation for overreacting wasn't the best situation for that comment. Anyway, Ash tried to save the child but they both ended up dead by about twenty bullets being piled into them by the Rocket's trigger happy hand.

But hey, that was life. And if Ash hadn't been so rash and thought before acting, he might have been able to figure out that he could have sent one of his pokemon out to knock the gun out of the Rocket's hands with a long range attack. Don't you just love it when people don't think?

I looked up from where I was standing in front of the pokemart and looked at all the new 'trainer toys' in the two display windows to the sides of the small automatic door in the middle. I walked in, holding a sense of anticipation about me. I trotted lightly up to the unmanned counter and rang the small silver serving bell. A harried looking middle aged man with balding brown hair came out, holding a screwdriver in one hand and a pokeball in the other.

"Yes, yes, what do you want?" he asked bitterly, obviously having too much work on his hands. _Well_, I said to myself, _he's just going to have to handle my request._

"Well, err… I'm looking for something to hold my pokeballs, I mean the full ones… umm…" I didn't really know what to say, so I tried to explain my request carefully. "I don't know really how the pokeballs attach, but I'm wondering if there is a way to hold them on the shoulder straps of my pack?"

He looked thoughtful for a moment, and I wondered if he could actually do so. "Well, from the looks of you, you must be a beginning trainer! A bit older than most of the new sprouts, but that's not unusual. The way we attach pokeballs is by magnets actually, if we can sew magnets into the shoulder straps, it could work. Ok, take of your bag, that's it. Put it on the counter and let me get my tools, this is actually the first time I've heard a suggestion like this so I'll give the magnets to you for free, if you let me use the idea."

I complied with the order and thought about letting him use the suggestion. If I didn't, he could use it anyway and I would have to pay. If I did, I could get it for free and thus be able to save my money for other supplies when needed. The only thing bad would be that other people would use my way… Well, no reason to be stingy about that I guess. The man came back with a small knife, six round magnets about an inch wide each, and some sewing equipment.

"Okay, if I get this for free you can use my idea," I said genially. He nodded briefly then dropped everything on the counter except the knife, and then grabbed a strap of my pack.

I watched as he cut a small space open in the front of the strap, right where the front of my shoulder would be. He slid one of the magnets into it and started sewing it back up in a tight stitch that would be the envy of anybody in the business of sewing. He then cut another space about two inches down from the first and did the same once again. He did another one two inches lower on that strap then did the other strap in the same pattern.

As he was stitching the last one I looked up at the clock that was on the wall to the left of me. I was quite surprised to see that an hour had already gone by, for I hadn't ever sewn before to know how long it takes. The process was actually fascinating to me, but anything that could help me fascinated me. I looked back at the man again the see him standing straight with his hands on his hips looking proudly down at his work. I looked down also and noticed happily that the only thing you could see of the work was the stitching with black thread that was barely visible against the black of the straps.

I smiled and thanked the man before he shooed me off, backpack in my hand. I unzipped the smallest pocket of my pack, taking out the four extra pokeballs before zipping it up again. After shouldering the pack and attaching the pokeballs to the bottom two magnets of each strap to make sure that I would be able to tell which pokeballs had pokemon and which didn't easily, I grabbed the pokeball holding Surskit in it from my pocket and tossed it onto the ground. Holding up my hand and catching the ball in my hand as it flew back to me, I felt a sudden surge of satisfaction. I only needed my trainers' license and then I would be able to catch pokemon and train them!

"Hey little buddy, look at what I just got," I said, pointing at my right shoulder with one hand while attaching his pokeball to the top magnet of it with the other. He squeaked with pleasure when he looked at it. Chuckling slightly, I picked him up and put him on my hat. With only a warning of "hang tight," I was dashing off to the pokecenter, Surskit hanging on for his dear life.

I knew where the place was because I had passed it so many times in the middle of the city. Seems odd that I know where the 'center is and not the 'mart? That's because the 'center is near the square where the swap meets are held, while the 'mart is near the outskirts of the city. I chose to stay in the middle of the city most of the time, because it had easier places to steal from.

Finally, as I turned a sharp corner that left Surskit squealing in protest, I saw the 'center. The huge dome shaped building had the trademark red roof on it, with many trainers hanging outside with pokemon. I slowed to a trot as I neared it.

Walking inside the automatic doors, I looked around at the room. It had red carpets and whitewashed walls with red and white comfy looking furniture dotting the room. Off to my right was a doorway that looked like it led into a cafeteria, to my left was an open door leading to a stairway that I presumed led to accommodations for trainers. Seeing this made me think about just sleeping here for the night and leaving the sleeping pad and old lantern for some other thief to find. The thought of getting a more comfortable sleeping bag and tent lingered in my mind for a moment before I shook my head a little to clear my head and walked up to the counter. I probably would go with that plan, but right now I had more important business.

I had heard that all 'centers had their clone like caretakers called Nurse Joy, so I wasn't surprised to see the red haired lady that was about four inches taller than me with a mechanic smile. She looked like she had come right out of a stupid cartoon where everything was all happy and smiles. I hid my disgust and waited until she noticed me.

She finally did. "Oh! Hello, what can I do for you today?" I shivered inside at the overly cheerful voice and felt Surskit shiver slightly also. _Maybe pokemon only pretended to be good with her, fearing what she might do? A possibility,_ I mused to myself.

"Yes, I need to get my trainers' license; you do that right?" I asked, thinking about the possibility that I might have to go to the 'starting town' of Littleroot. Every region had something called a 'starting town' where a professor lived to hand out pokemon to new and aspiring trainers and gave them all the basic equipment, right down to the pokedex.

The nurse nodded and bent over to grab something from under the front desk. Standing straight up again, I saw that it was a paper. She attached it to a clipboard and handed it to me, along with a pencil.

It was an application form. I felt dread closing around my heart, but took the clipboard ad pen anyway to sit down. I didn't know how to write. I decided that if I knew how to read, writing wouldn't be so hard. With a shaky hand, I grabbed the pencil and lifted it, putting it down on the line of the first question. I was glad there weren't any trainers sitting nearby me, it would be kind of embarrassing to let them see a person who couldn't even write her name!

The first question was easy enough. I just had to write my first name and make up some initials for the middle and last name. I saw that my handwriting was very shaky, and tried to get it to look like the print in all the books I have read. I succeeded in writing my name, but it was still very shaky looking. I heard a small thump from beside me and I looked up, startled. Sitting next to me was a cheerful looking man, looking to be in his mid twenties or so.

"Having a little trouble there? Look, you can barely write your name!" He said genially, I was too full of surprise and fear that I might have been discovered to answer back, but he kept talking. "Yeah, I remember getting my license. I couldn't even move! Finally, Joy offered to just type it up right there if I would just answer the questions verbally. The one here can probably do the same for you!"

Before I knew it he had taken my hand and was pulling me off the red leather couch I was sitting on a moment before and hauling me to the front desk, clipboard and all. He started talking rapidly with the nurse, but I was too surprised to listen to it. He stopped as quickly as he started and grabbed the clipboard, sliding it over the counter to Joy.

Finally, he spoke to me. "Alright, kid. Just answer the questions." He had a foreign accent so I guess he must have been from one of the other regions. The nurse started her questions and as I answered, she typed on the computer that was to the side of the desk.

"Name?"

"Err… Ayshen." The nurse looked annoyed at that.

"_Full_ name," she said firmly. I thought quickly for something, looking around me for something to give me an idea. Finally, my eyes rested on a pair of pokemon in the lobby that were playing tag. An awkward kind of tag, since the small reddish caterpillar pokemon and the blue bird with a red face didn't really seem to be masters of walking on the ground.

"Ayshen… Tagward," I said unsurely, knowing that the combination of tag and awkward wasn't very good. The man and nurse had probably both met their share of odd names because they didn't change their expressions at all.

"Adress?" _Oh shit,_ I thought, trying to remember the warehouse address. I might as well use that…

"Err… 104 Warehouse Lane, Rustboro." This time the nurse looked at me oddly before typing it out and going on.

"Emergency phone number?"

"None," I said truthfully. The man looked at me with understanding.

"So I guess you're one of those kids too, the kind that trains against family will or something?" I nodded slightly, deciding to go on that.

"Okay then… Birthdate?" I thought it kind of odd that she would ask birth date later rather than one of the first questions, then felt panic run through me. This was going to be so tough! I decided to go on something that I thought might be close to my real birthday.

"Errr… October 24, 1154 A.H." I said, hopefully keeping my voice calm. The nurse typed that down and started clicking around with the mouse. A machine _hurred_ from under the desk and Surskit started from what apparently was a deep sleep. The machine stopped the noise after a while and Joy picked something up from under the desk, and then held it out to me.

"There you go! Hope you have fun," the clone like person said cheerfully as I took it. The man looked quite happy and followed me as I trotted outside with Surskit on my arm inspecting the card. I realized that I forgot to thank him, but when I turned shyly towards him, he was gone. I looked around, confused, but didn't see him in sight. I shrugged and sat on a bench that was conveniently put right in front of the 'center.

"We did it buddy! I'm a trainer now!" I said, putting all my happiness in those words. He squealed and stopped inspecting my new license, I then put the license in my pocket and hugged the bug hard until he squeaked in protest.

"I don't want to call you 'Surskit', since we're on more friendly terms than that." I said as I remembered that most trainers nicknamed their pokemon. I thought about the perfect name for him, trying to come up with something unique. Unfortunately, creativity isn't my strong point. "Err… Bubbler!" I said cheerfully, he squealed with happiness and produced a few bubbles to show that he understood. I chuckled at that, and decided to go get that new seeping bag.

Dashing around the city looking for a camping store, I thought about the events of today. Maybe, just maybe, I could change my life around and lose my title as thief. _I don't want to be a pokemon master, breeder, gym leader, or anything else. I just want to stop being a thief, _I mused, and then chuckled, looking up at Bubbler wiggling his but at someone I had just pushed past. _Pokemon really do change people. _

* * *

Author's Note: Let me inform you thatthe title of my story was created by me because it went with the plot that this story would have; I didn't know that there was a book with the same title and I will not change my title just because of that. Thank you for the reviews and comments people, and special thanks to Fate's Dice Kyre for being my beta reader.

Also, I own all characters except Nurse Joy or pokemon.


	4. Thieves' Enemies

Author's Inane Rant: Okay, I was playing my pokemon emerald game last night and got the bright idea to _actually _try to fill up my pokedex. After catching and training a few pokemon to evolve and add to my collection, I noticed that I had a Nuzleaf but no Seedot. So, on I went on my quest to find a Seedot. After an hour of searching, there was no luck. So I went to breed the Nuzleaf I had, a male. I first tried to see if he was compatible with my female Smeargle. No. So I went and got my female Lombre to try. No. I then looked on the news and saw that there was a Nuzleaf infestation on the route to Meteor Falls. I searched and searched, coming across all male Nuzleaf, a Seviper, and a Lotad and its evolution. I stopped looking and went to see if I could catch a Roselia because I thought that might work. No. Roselia aren't in emerald version. So I trotted on back to the Nuzleaf route and guess what happened the second I ran into the grass. I ran into a pokemon; a _female _Nuzleaf to be exact. Irony. I hate it.

But the extremely good part is that while I was typing this, I found a shiny Ditto and caught it! I looked at the screen thinking it was a regular ditto and wondering if I should kill it with my Manectric or Sableye when I saw the unmistakable blue flop and the shiny stars wiz by. I squeaked and made my Manectric use spark twice, then caught it with an ultra ball. I nicknamed my new level 41 shiny Ditto, Ditz.

Anyway, thank you all who reviewed… I have 10 reviews out of 183 hits on the story… That's a bit disappointing! I'm also surprised no one asked about the year system. A.H. stands for 'After Humans' if anyone would like to know. Now, onto my story!

**Thieves' Enemies**

The lush grass was wet with dew as I walked around the route tat was to the left of Rustboro. I could see a large cave up ahead; too small to be called a mountain, yet too big to be called just a cave. From what I had been told, it was called Rusturf Tunnel. If you go through it you'll end up in Verdanturf town, the tunnel being dug earlier by hand. They say that there was some kind of love story based on that, from about a hundred years ago near Ash's time.

The new sleeping bag attached to my backpack made the weight much heavier than expected, but I could make do with it. Last night I had a real bed for what might have been the first time in my life, and I made the most of it. I decided that living the life of a trainer wasn't going to be that different from being a thief, aside from the obvious differences. I slept on a sleeping pad ever since I was orphaned and I tested the sleeping bag to find that it was much more comfortable than the pad.

When I woke in the morning I didn't wake to the musty and rotten smell of the warehouse, but to a new fresh scent that came from air fresheners in every room of the 'center. I also took it upon myself to use the bathing facilities there, deciding that hygiene would be extra important now. Earlier I had went and bought a new pair of clothes, to use when I was in more public places. I had found that not many people, not even trainers, had clothes in such a state as mine.

Bubbler had insisted on being out last night, using my head as his own resting spot, and had stayed out the whole time since then. Right now it was about midmorning and the smell of the wildlife around me was so much better than being cooped up in the city. I don't know how I could have stood that place!

I snapped out of my thoughts when I heard a rustling in front of me, where the grass was relatively taller than the grass I stood on. I heard that those were the only places, counting out trees, caves, and water, that pokemon lived in these parts. I could see why, because the grass was tall enough to go just above my knees, providing ideal protection.

The rustling continued and I could see grass parting little by little for some creature. Bubbler hopped off my head, which he had claimed as his territory, and landed nimbly right in front of where the tall grass started. I watched closely as the thing moved closer and closer, finally coming out to reveal… Darn, another Zigzagoon.

The raccoon-like pokemon was extremely common, and Hoenn guaranteed that you would see at least ten per day when traveling on land. Bubbler and I had already fought a couple low-level ones for practice, not wanting to catch one because of their weaknesses. Of course, most everyone knew that Zigzagoon's and their Pickup ability was extremely useful for beginning trainers, but they wouldn't do so well against the first two gyms.

I hadn't known what Bubbler could do other than a bubble attack, that being the foundation of his name. I had later found that he knew quick attack also, but nothing else. The clone running the 'center told me that that meant he was between level seven and level thirteen, because they learned sweet scent at thirteen. She had also showed me a picture of his evolution, one that I thought was also very cute.

Without an order he rushed at the raccoon in a quick attack, knocking the poor fellow back into the grass. He then began firing a stream of bubbles at it, not stopping at all when it cried out. That's one thing I learned about my new friend, he was quite independent when it came to battling. It was almost as if he didn't quite trust me to issue orders yet. Thinking about that for a moment, I decided that it was most likely true.

Pokemon aren't stupid, they can tell if a trainer is inexperienced or not, as well as good or bad trainers. I have a feeling that pokemon actually choose the trainers, not the other way around. They could easily avoid us if they wanted to, and if pokemon are caught by abusive trainers they could probably have misjudged their target or had been careless in hiding. I think they depended on trainers to care for them while they cared for their trainer in a less easily seen way.

With a final cry the Zigzagoon fainted, leaving the little spider standing in a pose over him, one spindly leg on the raccoon's chest and a boastful gleam in his eye. Yes, he was definitely male. Pokemon were no different from regular animals in that aspect, having the need to show strength and power to find a good mate.

"Quit your boasting. We both know you don't stand a chance against the gym leader yet." I said, trying to deflate his ego a bit but not enough for him to actually be sad. He understood what I was doing and looked up at me with agreement in his eyes before skittering up my side and perching himself on my hat again.

I was wearing my new clothes today, a pair of black jeans that wouldn't show stains easily and a straw-colored t-shirt. My clothes accented Bubbler's beady black eyes and little hat-like thing. I did indeed do this on purpose, thinking it would be funny to match my pokemon. Bubbler had taken onto the joke also, deciding to remain on my blue hat as still as possible when someone came by, making it seem like he wasn't alive and that he was part of my hat. Most people took me as having a Surskit obsession until he moved suddenly, making most people jump.

Both of us found that extremely funny, knowing that our new inside joke was helping us stitch our friendship even tighter. He and I took each other as equals and friends, not just trainer and servant. I knew this was how you should treat a pokemon, and that was one thing that so many people lacked now. Some people never took the time to bond with their pokemon, which is why those people were usually weeded out by gym leaders.

Without the bond, you wouldn't be able to know what your partner is planning, and that is something that could cost you a match. We learned that early on when we kept getting beaten by the wild pokemon around here earlier. We finally agreed that we would try as hard as we could to get to know each other's minds as well as our own. It also did good to let him battle on his own until he actually wanted me to help him out, which I would immediately oblige to.

I find all this quite ironic. Usually it is the thieves that don't know how to bond to their pokemon, while the people who oppose them do. But as I have figured out, the tables have turned. Bubbler and I had battled a small lad about a half hour ago who was only able to control his pokemon by bullying it. There wasn't anything I could do about it, but the hopelessness I saw in the little Zigzagoon's eyes made me pretty sad.

I was disgusted, to put it bluntly. These people who have grown up around pokemon took them for granted, while I hadn't ever so much as touched a pokemon before Bubbler and yet I did treat him much better. I don't agree that I am the best at it, sometimes it is hard to get along with him when we are both in certain moods. Sometimes we get annoyed at each other and can't battle right. And to say that I've already had those experiences in one day of having him shows that I'm not perfect, nor is he.

We aren't the greatest, but we try our best. And that's what makes it worth it to have a friend like him. He is probably the first real friend I have had in my life, and I wouldn't give that up for a stronger or faster or any other type of pokemon. It's the things that make us un-perfect that makes it seem perfect. I can't really explain, but all I know is that we make a great team.

I wandered around aimlessly, hoping that more pokemon would come to us. We needed a lot more training than we have right now to beat the gym leader, the one they call Roxy. It's my understanding that Roxy's grandmother was the previous owner of the gym, until she passed it down to Roxy's mother and then to Roxy. The leader before her grandmother was definitely not a relative, but actually her grandma's teacher. Roxanne was an ace student and took over the gym at sixteen, as did her daughter and then Roxy. I guessed it was tradition or something.

I started to hear something, but decided it was just a bird. But then it grew louder and closer. Pretty soon I realized that it was yelling. I looked behind me and saw someone in some kind of black costume running away from another person. It took me a moment to realize that the thing in the costumed-guy's hand was some kind of pokeball.

In a moment the guy rushed past me, pushing me out of the way and heading for Verdanturf Tunnel. The other man that was chasing him slowed down to a halt next to me. Panting, he told me that the guy was from a 'Team Shadow' or something and had stolen a custom pokeball that held a pokemon that was reserved for a certain person.

He was on his way to deliver the custom pokeball and the creature inside when he was mugged and the guy had stolen it, saying something about 'being good for the boss.' He gave chase, the man he was supposed to deliver it to was very rich and didn't like to waste his money. If he didn't get it back, he would be in big trouble.

Irony seems to be something I see every day. Because here I am, sprinting after a thief for some guy I don't even know. And the ironic part is that I'm a former thief! Funny how this works out, I always knew my conscience would get the best of me one day.

I reached the outside of the tunnel and took out my flashlight. I knew it would be dark in there because, well, it's a cave isn't it? Turning it on and lighting my way, I stepped carefully past fallen rocks and little holes in the ground. This was Whismur territory also, so I would have to be extremely quiet so as not to cause an uproar. Literally.

I saw the guy up ahead and I jogged after him. I knew that it was about a twenty minute walk through the tunnel to Verdanturf, so I was able to catch up to him easily. Bubbler immediately hopped down and started firing a bubble attack at his back, and he yelped in surprise.

Taking on a menacing tone I said, "Give back what you stole!" Now if I had posed a bit that would have been perfectly cliché…

In answer, he took out a pokeball and threw it to the ground. In a flash of white light a purple pokemon appeared. It looked vaguely like a ghost of some sort, and for eyes it had what looked to be faceted diamonds for eyes. Pointy purple ears and claws told me that it wouldn't be good to take this lightly. The pokemon disappeared in shadow for a moment and reappeared besides Bubbler, tackling into him in what I guessed to be faint attack.

The attack knocked my friend out instantly and I returned him. Looking at the pokemon I knew there was only one other way to get the stolen pokemon back. As the guy in the black uniform advanced upon me with his pokemon, I let out an ear-piercing shriek. I do have some dignity might I add, and I did not do it in fear. And you would have done the same if you were in this situation, because my backup came.

The disturbed pink, fat, rabbit-like pokemon came rushing out in hordes. The tackled both of us down and fainted the guy's pokemon in their mass uproar attacks. I saw the black custom pokeball fall out of the man's hands as he was tackled by yet another Whismur and I fought to crawl over to it. Grabbing it and stowing it away in one of my pockets, I turned to try and escape.

Standing up, I was tackled by two Whismur right in my stomach, knocking the wind out of me and making me fall down again. Trying to get up once again, two more Whismur tackled my shoulders when I was halfway up.

The two pink pokemon on my shoulders were immediately swallowed up by two empty pokeballs on the straps of my pack, and I grabbed them while they were still wobbling and ran. I didn't notice the two _pings_ that came from them a few seconds later, nor did I care to. Because right then, I had about a hundred Whismur on my tail.

I finally reached the exit and ran out into the open air, keeping the same sprinting pace to get to the man I had agreed to help earlier. Absentmindedly I attached my two new Whismur to the magnets at the top of my left shoulder and middle of my right shoulder. Fumbling in my pockets for the custom pokeball, I found it and gave it to him.

The surprise and appreciation in his eyes showed, and he reached into one of his pockets to pull out a different kind of pokeball, minimized. It was silver colored, with nothing else on it. He handed it to me, and I took it in surprise.

"Thank you so much! You don't know how much trouble I would have been in if I had lost this. I'm afraid this is all I can give you, but it's a custom pokeball. It doesn't have any special effects I'm afraid, all it does is work like a normal pokeball. But the snazzy appearance is nice though." He said, his gratitude and regret for having to give only something like this to someone for helping get something that was worth much more than it.

I nodded, I didn't really care. I mean, it would be cool if it did have a special effect, but this is well enough. If I could find the perfect pokemon for it, it would be pretty cool. He thanked me once again and scurried back off to Rustboro, while I followed at a more leisurely pace. I did have to heal my pokemon anyway. _My pokemon, _I thought,_ I like it._

* * *

Author's Note: I need to reply to a few reviews.

Pearl: Don't jump to conclusions. I was being blunt, not having a 'hissy-fit.' But thank you for the compliments on my story, and believe me it will get much more interesting next chapter!

Half Fox-Demon: Of course she's not a mary-sue! If I made her a mary-sue it would ruin the whole plot! She's got strengths and weaknesses just like any other person. this is definitely my best story yet...

Bookworm: I'm blushing at the compliments! I never knew the story would be considered that good! I thought it was beginner's work at the most... (I answered the beta question in a review reply if anyone is wondering)

Until next time! Oh and here's a preview of next chapter!

_I stared. I haven't ever seen one of them before, and not many people ever have or do. But here one was. Here was someone who would understand exactly what it's like to be born into a position that you couldn't ever learn to like. Here was someone who would know what it feels like to be resented and piled upon with trash. Here was someone who could understand._


	5. Thieves' Allies

Authors Inane Rant: Well, after two days messing with schoolwork and video games while subconsciously playing out music lyrics of my favorite songs and mulling over nicknames, I have finally made up nicknames for those two annoying Whismurs! Bow down to my awesomeness! Don't laugh, I am not joking! Seriously. Bow Down. I'll try not to bore you with my pokedex quest or shiny pokemon catching again, because it's obvious you people don't care. :sniff: On to the story, and whom Ayshen has found!

Oh, and I also spent a full useless hour on the internet looking for pokemon voice downloads to hear what Whismur sound like. After an hour of searching and looking at a diary for a dedicated player of the pokemon RPG games with no luck, I said "Ah the hell with it" and turned on my emerald version to listen to the crappy voice of Whismur which is nothing like the show's Whismur voice. You know, you guys should be more grateful that I get off my lazy ass to do asinine things like this, even if it is completely and utterly stupid.

**Thieves' Allies**

With a heavier weight on my shoulders, I made for the route east of Rustboro once again. After getting past the dreamy feeling I got after catching the Whismur on accident and receiving the pokeball present, I healed my pokemon and set off again. Deciding to meet the Whismur on their turf would hopefully appeal to their trust, seeing as the first greeting wasn't… appropriate.

I noticed that pokeballs that were full were warmer and considerable heavier than empty ones. But then again, what do you expect if it's holding a warm-blooded life form? Holding the pokeballs, I also noticed that they were made as if to fit perfectly in the palm of your hand. But that might be obvious to anyone else, eh?

Trotting with Bubbler on his accustomed spot on my hat, pokeballs in hand, I made my way through some tall grass to get to a spot up ahead where there were a few trees and shade. Reaching there, I sat down immediately and took a breather. No, I wasn't lazy at all, I was in fact in the best shape a thief could be in; but jogging from the pokecenter in the center of the city out to the edge of the route wasn't child's play.

If you just walked the distance of the city, you would be tired even if you were a seasoned trainer. I think that the only people who cold jog the distance of the city and be only a little bit tired is the track teams at both the two high schools and the two junior highs. Yes, it was that big. And I heard that Lilycove city was twice its size…

Bubbler jumped onto the ground and tapped my leg with one of his. He didn't seem to talk much, knowing I wouldn't understand, but the few things he shows and says tell me all I need to know. He must have been lonely, poor guy.

Tossing the two balls of the ground, white light formed into two pink, fat, rabbit-like pokemon. Crying out, they looked at me with anger, most likely for m 'catching' them. Just as they looked as if they were about the tackle me, Bubbler crawled up to them and started talking rapidly to them in squeaks and cries. After all three pokemon had said their say, they turned to me.

Bubbler looked as if he was expecting something, and the two rabbits looked anxious. I quickly thought about possible things they could want, but couldn't figure it out. While being a thief means that you must analyze possibilities and be a quick thinker, social understandings were not always part of the job. That's what made it so hard for me to understand pokemon, I was never a social person.

Bubbler, probably knowing why I was giving him a blank look, pointed to himself and started making bubbles. The pokemon probably knows me better than I do, because that was probably the only way I could ever have figured it out. Names.

"Okay… Names! What are your guys' names?" I asked, knowing that the Whismur wouldn't be able to tell me without a game of charades but asking anyway.

They both started rattling off in their own language until they realized that I couldn't catch up. Then they started rapid motions of their paws with their talk. While the first one, which I assumed was a girl because of it's relatively higher pitched voice, though I couldn't really know, started slapping herself with both paws and repeating "Wis!" then going into a low whistle each time, I finally realized what she was doing.

"Wish! You're wish, right?" I was extremely grateful that Bubbler had helped me with certain signals before when the first Whismur stopped her talking and other motions to start bobbing up and down. By using the same type of methods, I figured out that the other Whismur, male I suppose, was Murry. Now that I think about it, it was kind of ironic.

Nodding speculatively to myself, I got up and started to stretch my legs out. A while ago I had figured out that my legs cramped quickly if I didn't take enough time to wind down a bit after a long run. Easing out one of my legs to try and get rid of a light cramp in my calf, I looked out across the route for any sign of a good practice place.

I had no worries that Wish and Murry wouldn't want to stay and train with me, Bubbler had taken care of that. While I had not precisely agreed to let him persuade them to join, I didn't disagree either. Friends would do him good, and more pokemon meant a better chance against other trainers. While they wouldn't help as much at the rock gym in Rustboro, Bubbler made up for type advantage and they had long range attacks.

Calling them out once I spotted a few Taillow crowded together, we started our training. While Whismur were not particularly strong, they were very good at distracting things. After getting my book out and looking up their data, I found that their evolutions had relatively equal stats, so while Surskit and it's evolution excelled in speed and special attack, their stats were all close enough in numbers to not have any certain weaknesses other than not being resistant to any element.

After consulting the Whismur, I decided to work on a distract, hit, and run strategy. Their long range voice attacks were very good distraction and their size provided enough added agility that the hit and run part would work well. After a mock battle with Bubbler that ended up almost fainting him, they decided they were getting tired. No wonder, as the sun showed that it was much past noon and we had skipped lunch.

Trotting back into the city I passed the entrance to the route north of Rustboro. Pausing a moment and then deciding that it wouldn't take long to explore it, I switched directions and headed that way. Looking around, I noticed that the dirt path made in the middle of all the lush grass there led off the shore of a little cove.

Pausing again to check the time, being more accurate and looking at my digital watch which I had bought earlier, I found that it was later than I thought. Sunset would be coming soon, but if I went to the pokecenter to heal my friends we would miss it.

With a mental '_what the hell_' that I would soon learn was the base of my reckless travels, I walked to the cove and sat down on the soft sand. Taking off my shoes and extremely worn socks, I dug them under the sand right where the water fell over them. Lying down and sighing with content, I let out my friends to wait for the sunset with me.

With understanding mingled with amusement, they flopped down next to me (or in Bubbler's case, on my head), enjoying themselves in the lulling sound of the ocean. The peaceful setting was enough to make me almost fall asleep. Almost.

Just as I was starting to doze off, a high pitched shout of "Zigzagoon!" drew my attention. Rolling over so I was flat on my stomach, earning a scolding from each of my friends because their prop just showed a new agenda, I looked at the presumably wild pokemon.

The raccoon pokemon was a copy of every other one of its irritating species, changing neither mentally nor physically it seemed to me. I glared at it, hoping it would go away. My friends, also annoyed at the disturbing of atmosphere, took on an even angrier approach. Before the Whismur and Bubbler could start an uproar and bubble attack respectively, the Zigzagoon cried out in worry and I heard footsteps coming from the way in which I came.

There was a slight rise between the shore of the cove and the route, so I didn't actually see the person until he was actually there and standing beside his Zigzagoon. Funny thing is, he must have been as startled as I was. He stared. I stared also.

I haven't ever seen one of them before, and not many people ever have or do. But here one was. Here was someone who would understand exactly what it's like to be born into a position that you couldn't ever learn to like. Here was someone who would know what it feels like to be resented and piled upon with trash. Here was someone who could understand.

I think I was now getting used to the unexpected, because I shook it off quickly. Well, as quickly as you can after seeing a pokemorph. In Ash's time all the different teams there were had figured out a way to genetically alter a person's DNA. After many experiments, they made the first pokemorph. Humans fused with pokemon DNA, or vice versa, were created to be the ultimate weapons.

After many years of way, the pokemorphs finally sealed a truce and now only select few turn to doing crimes and whatnot, the rest live a peaceful life in exile. The ones in exile were usually able to find mates in either pokemon or humans, being neither and both. When the very rare pokemorph is found doing wrong, the other morphs were said to take care of them in secret.

The morphs nowadays were all descendents of the originals, and not all of them actually had the powers of a morph. But this one sure did. His dark brown hair matched the darker brown parts of his pokemon while the last inch or so was pale sandy color that matched the lighter part of his pokemon. His dark brown eyes were almost as black and beady and filled with curiosity mingled with amusement just like a Zigzagoon's. His bushy tail was the exact replica of his pokemon counterpart's, except a bit larger and longer.

Now, counting that out he looked like a normal boy, handsome features in his face, but looking more like a little boy's rather than the early teenager he probably was, wearing a black t-shirt and baggy pants; yup, normal. But counting out the tail and hair was extremely hard, even if you could dye your hair those colors.

Before my thoughts could start wandering again, I focused on the morph, trying to detect any movement of hostility he might make. Of course, with a curious and innocent face like that, you would have a hard time believing he could do anything wrong. He seemed safe enough, so I slowly reached forward and, without taking my eyes off him and his Zigzagoon, pulled my pokemon back so they wouldn't attack once they caught their breath.

The boy seemed to take this as a motion of cowardice, judging by the flash of pity that went through his eyes. Pulling off my friends' pokeballs, I returned them and stowed them back onto the straps of my pack. I didn't care what he thought about what I did, as long as he didn't think I was being hostile. Standing up and straightening to my full height, I decided to give him a surprise that should probably smack all notions of cowardice or hostility out of his mind.

I put on a cheerful face and hailed him in a genial tone. "Hello there! What brings you here today?" The look on his face suggested that I had more likely whacked him with a broom than just called out a simple greeting.

* * *

Author's Note: Sorry for the late update, I got limited time on the computer now because I got bad grades in social studies. I needed to do other things with the computer before I could write the rest of this chapter too. To me, I consider this chapter slightly crappy... But to object about my negative responses to my own work, please review! I mean it... Anyway, if anyone feels the oh so great need to have one of their characters in the story at some point in time, all you have to do is just email me with a full description about them and their personality. And if I like the character enough, I might give it a long term part in the plot!... I must be going insane, because I thought I just heard crickets chirping. Heh, imagine that! 


	6. Meet the Thieves' Torturers?

Author's Inane Rant: Well, not much has happened since I updated… Except for the fact that in health class we were going to work on a worksheet and we had to finish the sentences (about how we like ourselves) and I refused to do it. You see, there were things like this: "When you look in the mirror, you think you're... (finish)" and other things that were making us tell our personal thoughts of ourselves. I refused to do it because, being the blunt smartass I usually am, I refused to exploit my personal thoughts on myself that could be used against me by my peers to be accused of insecurity. And I actually did say exactly that… Heh, the teachers probably didn't like me much before, but now I'm probably just annoying the crap out of them. Yay! My goal in life is finally completed, so I can now die without any regrets. I mean, not that I don't care about entertaining fans of my fiction (pun intended), but I don't actually see how my story is so good… As you can see, I am very negative about things; which doesn't help me with my social life.

But then again, I am quite happy with the few very close friends I have. Who can guess every smartass comment I will say and can successfully counter them. Ah, the bliss and insanity of friendship within insane groups of people. Anyway, quick review reply.

Pearl: Ah, it's all right. Actually, I only get mildly annoyed when people jump to conclusions; people jump to conclusions about me everyday, saying I'm a bitch, geek, etc. And it's all right, as long as you make up for it with more reviews! I mean, come on! I have 345 hits on this story with 5 chapters, but only 15 reviews. I shall sink into depression. Addicted you say:chibi Ban puts on Sherlock pose: The only way to treat this 'unfortunate' event is by… making you read more! Bwaha! And if I were to be a 'morph, I would be a… Sandslash 'morph! I love them.

I'll only now reply to reviews on chapters if they are unsigned. Also, I decided that since I don't like making up minor characters, if you submit one they will only be there for a short time; just to help the chapter along.

Anyway, if anyone ever gets the bright idea to wonder why I call myself Ban, as in the character in one of my stories, I'd like to let you know that it was actually based off the story. After reading the story for the first time, one of my friends decided to start calling me by the main character's name. I actually liked the name a bit, and after a while of people catching on and them calling me 'Ban' or 'Banira', I let it go and let myself be called that.

**Meet the Thieves'… Torturers?**

I burst out laughing. It was all I could do; that dumbstruck look on his face was enough to make a mute Magikarp laugh! He recovered slightly when I had just started rolling on the ground, clutching a stitch in my side.

He looked offended at that, and (probably for the sake of 'manly dignity') pulled a pokeball out of one of his pockets. He tossed it onto the ground and in a flash of red light, another Zigzagoon appeared. This one looked tougher and less bubbly than most of the raccoon pokemon, and I only had time to stop laughing and wonder why before he issued his challenge.

"If I win a one-on-one battle, you never saw me!" I jumped up to my feet, searching for any kind of hint of a trick. Seeing nothing but an offended boy, I threw out Wish.

I had wanted to try her out in a real battle for a while, she seemed much more powerful than Murry. Murry was… well, cute. I thought of using him for a contest; something like a beauty show but you could choose categories of what kind of things your pokemon are good at. A Cute contest would be best for him, no matter what his move set was. But, he was still pretty good at battling too and publicity may not be a good thing for me.

I nodded to the 'morph, challenge in my eyes. Not that I could see my eyes, of course. I don't think I even remember what eye color my old thief friends said I had; I'd have to check soon to soothe my curiosity… Before I could let my thoughts wander too much, I shook my head slightly to clear my thoughts and looked at Wish.

She was only a little tired from earlier, I thought she was stronger than Bubbler and Murry. Probably by a few levels, and I sent her out because she had pretty good endurance. I knew that Bubbler might have been a choice of someone who always went for the 'match fire with fire, speed for speed' but I didn't want to. I knew that if the Zigzagoon was stronger than Bubbler, he would be speedier also. Bubbler had good speed but poor endurance, and if anything, Wish would be a much better choice.

The 'morph started calling out things to his Zigzagoon; which I couldn't understand. I could have sworn he was saying something like "Zig, zigzagoon!" but it could have been my imagination. Wish looked at me with questioning eyes, and I just shrugged. I couldn't really be expected to win this battle if, for one, I couldn't understand the other trainer, and two, my understanding of my pokemon and their battle skills were limited.

As much as I wished it, I couldn't ever be one of those people who always knew what to do next and always came out the better. Nodding to Wish, I decided to let her take up the battle, trusting her skills as a wild pokemon to know what to do. I knew I couldn't hide behind this much longer if I planned on getting better, but I would have liked it better if I actually had a real live teacher for this kind of stuff.

The Zigzagoon advanced on Wish, feinting an attack and then sliding around her to use a sand attack. Wish huddled up, expecting the attack from hearing the trainer's orders. But that wasn't the only thing the raccoon had in mind; he dashed through his sand attack to tackle Wish, knocking her over.

Wish started using uproar, a series of ear-piercing yells and screeches. The Zigzagoon folded his ears down and huddled his head under his paws. I just put a finger in each of my ears and started humming slightly to drown out the sound. Looking at the pokemorph, I saw that he was pushing his hands against his ears, his face screwed up in pain.

I realized that by being a pokemorph, he had much better hearing than humans and some attacks from pokemon affected him in ways it could only affect a pokemon. While the uproar was just really loud and unpleasant to me; it actually _hurt_ them. I almost called out to Wish to stop, but then realized that it might cost me the battle.

Instead, I called out for a quick howl and then pound for after she finished the uproar. After finishing the attack, she complied with my orders while our opponents were still recovering. With another ear-piercing shriek that was more like a howl this time, she charged at the Zigzagoon and started pounding it with her chubby little paws.

While she was doing that, I was looking at her paws, wondering why she could actually hold things when she didn't have any fingers or thumbs. Lost in my train of thought, I didn't notice that the Zigzagoon had whipped his tail around at Wish after a few beatings and then started tackling her.

Hearing Wish's scream, I snapped out of my thoughts and looked at the situation in hand. Wish was a few yards away from Zigzagoon looking extremely beat up; the Zigzagoon was looking only a little better than she was. With lightning speed, he used a quick attack on her, dashing up in a blur and knocking her back a few more yards.

Wish struggled to get up, and I knew she was on her last ounce of strength. Taking out her pokeball, she yelled out in protest and started another uproar. I dropped her pokeball to cover my ears, and apparently that was all my opponents could take. The 'morph took out his Zigzagoon's pokeball and returned him, trying to be fast because he had to take one hand away from his ears.

Wish immediately stopped her uproar, seeing that we won the battle. I picked up her dropped pokeball and returned her, mentally thanking her and making a note to give her a treat later. The 'morph starting walking over to me as I put her pokeball back onto it's place on my pack's straps; I shuffled back a bit inadvertently, and he saw it.

He stopped right there, a few feet away from me. He held out his hand and I shook it cautiously. I didn't know if I could trust this guy or not, but he didn't seem like a hostile pokemorph to me. I couldn't myself not to make a joke.

"I guess I saw you then, eh?"

He laughed a bit and then answered. "Well, I was hoping that I'd win so I wouldn't have to follow you around and make sure that you wouldn't tell anyone. But I guess I have to follow you now!"

I stared at him, hoping he didn't just say that. If I were to become a normal trainer, I couldn't have a 'morph following me around! And come on, how was he supposed to disguise himself when I had to go into cities and towns? I voiced my complaints, hoping the 'morph would just leave now. The answer wasn't verbal though.

He dropped my hand and in a small flash of white light, a Zigzagoon was what stood in his place. I blinked at him and then realized that that was a power all 'morphs had. They could change into their pokemon counterparts at any time they choose at will. What surprised me more was that he started talking.

"Okay, girl, you need to heal your Whismur! By the way, it was pretty strong."

Offended by what he said, I couldn't help correcting it. "My name is Ayshen, not girl, and my Whismur is Wish who is female! And I don't see you introducing yourself!"

I then noticed that the Zigzagoon that wasn't in the battle was following us also. He was walking right by his trainer, but you could tell the difference because the 'real' Zigzagoon was smaller. He looked up at my stare and winked at me.

"Well, the one you first saw is Zag, Zig battled you, and I'm Zach Ziggert!"

I blinked and started laughing. Zag, Zig, and Zach Ziggert! I wondered if they did that on purpose for amusement. Looking at the Zag and Zach below me, I noticed that they had amusement plain in their eyes and took it that it was on purpose.

When I stopped laughing, he continued. "You didn't tell me the names of your other pokemon either. And I would like to know what you were doing out here, where you're headed, and what you plan on doing. Basically, I'm going to follow you until I deem you trustworthy."

I mentally laughed at that. A thief, trustworthy? Hah, the prospect was so absurd I was almost tempted to tell him the truth. But if I told him I was a thief, he could probably do something to me.

"Well, Bubbler is the Surskit and Murry is the other Whismur. I was training, I'm headed to Rustboro if you can't see that, and I'm going to go for the badge there when I feel my friends are ready."

He nodded, but the look he gave me made me continue. I decided that if I told him later he would think that I was leading him on and if I told him now there was a good chance that he would try to help me out. Basically, if telling him got him off my tail, good, if not, I could use battle practice with him and his Zigzagoons.

"Well, if you really want to know all about me, then you have to know first that I'm an orphan. I was abandoned when I was five or so and I was raised by some street gangs. A few days ago, I was trying to steal something." I paused and looked at him. He looked very interested yet guarded in his raccoon form. I continued.

"I had never had a pokemon before, and never wanted one. I was stealing this guy's wallet and he caught me. After a big chase, he caught up to me and I learned that there was actually a pokeball in the wallet containing one of his pokemon. I gave it back to him and ran away. I went back to my 'home', which happened to be a loft in a rotten warehouse, and I found out that I had a pokeball in my sleeve. My Surskit was in it, and he decided to help me become an honest trainer so I wouldn't have to steal anymore. Basically, a few days ago I was given a pokeball by a stranger and I turned into a trainer, where after I had collected the two Whismur I have now. I signed up for my trainers' card and got it using a false last name, and here I am now."

That was basically everything summed up that had happened in the past few days. I wondered what the 'morph would do, before realizing that he was staring at me. Looking down, I noticed that he seemed to have this odd look in his eye; as if he had already known… Huh, just my imagination.

"Well then Ms. Thief, we're going to have to teach you quite a bit," was all he said before he ran off towards Rustboro; me panting behind.

* * *

Sorry it's a little late. I kind of got caught up in other things. By the way, people who don't review... No cookies for you! Or ice cream. Or chocolate. Nothing! 


	7. Goodbye

**An Author's Goodbye**

I'm sorry, fellow fans. I don't have the time or resources to continue this story and it's a miracle I was able to get this up. It's my fault really, my lack of creativity for the seventh chapter led to laziness and soon after I couldn't write anymore when I moved. If I had possibly gotten a couple chapters up before I moved, I would have been able to write more, I'm sure. But as it is, I can't now. I'm sorry also that I wasn't able to put more of the plot in before I left for so long, it has been many months since the sixth chapter. So goodbye my friends and fellows, it sure has been great with the first couple chapters.

Sincerely, Detective Ban; resigning from status as an author on fanfiction.


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